


Crumpled paper

by stilinskisoul



Series: Like walking into a dream [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Little Fluff, M/M, Tattooed Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2176419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskisoul/pseuds/stilinskisoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<b><i>Devil's Due</i> is coming to Beacon Hills</b>—reads the title, and it's enough for Stiles to go on choking on his morning coffee. His Dad asks him if everything was okay with him and he manages to blurt out a “yes” before another wave of coughing strikes him. And now he officially has to say goodbye to the outfit he chose out for himself this morning."</p><p>In which Stiles gets to meet his favourite band. This meeting is something he will never forget for sure, ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crumpled paper

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed, I own all mistakes :)

**_Devil's Due_ is coming to Beacon Hills** —reads the title, and it's enough for Stiles to go on choking on his morning coffee. His Dad asks him if everything was okay with him and he manages to blurt out a “yes” before another wave of coughing strikes him. And now he officially has to say goodbye to the outfit he chose out for himself this morning.

~

Stiles is nervous.

His whole day sucked; he had to get up early to get to the gates in time, but by the time he arrived an at least fifty-meter-long queue had already been waiting—and the gates opened at noon. The weather was rainy, and Stiles had chosen not to take an umbrella with himself in the morning, so he got soaked four times before the Sun decided to show its presence on the sky, too. After had buying the ticket he had to wait yet again until the gates to the main stage were open. The security member who had been in charge there kept promising that the gate would be opened at noon, then he said it would be opened at one, then half past two... In the end he was allowed to let the crowd through at quarter past three.

And that was the last time Stiles had the chance to sit down.

He practically ran to the stage to make sure he had a place in the middle and in the first row. Stiles managed to achieve his dream, but then something else crept its way into his mind— _where's the backstage?_ After all, the only reason he's here is Devil's Due, and none of the other three bands those were going to perform before his favorite one invaded the stage for themselves. He had to figure out if it was going to be on the left or the right side of the main stage.

So, with an aching heart, he left his perfect place just to make sure to go in the proper direction after the concert was done. He had already seen the bus the guys came with, which he noticed behind the stage after going to the right. A relieved smile spread across his face, and he was just about to turn around and walk back to his spot when the door of the bus opened.

He saw as Isaac, the bassist, stepped out and walked to the huge white tent that was there for the performers. Stiles decided to wait for him to arrive back.

He was waiting there, not minding the disapproving looks the security member was giving him constantly. Especially not after Stiles noticed a fully tattooed arm through the darkened windshield of the tour bus. His jaw literally dropped. His heart rate picked up when that glorious arm waved to him in a greeting. He immediately waved back, though he was afraid it looked a little frantic. The Arm's index finger and thumb curled into an 'OK' sign before pointing at his coffee and holding its thumb up—Stiles knew it meant 'Hey, it's okay, I'm gonna drink my coffee then go outside to you, just a minute'.

Stiles' heart fluttered with bliss.

The 'minute' turned into an hour. Some other people came up to ask Stiles what he was waiting for, but Stiles knew better than to tell anyone the truth. He felt like an asshole, but he couldn't risk if those strangers told everyone who he was waiting for.

The first band started playing, but Stiles couldn't care less about that. He kept on waiting, promising himself to go back after the second or third song they play, but then the door of the bus opened again. After two and a half hours of waiting, finally he gets to have a picture with the vocalist of Devil's Due.

But when he saw who stepped out, his heart fell and sank back into disappointed sadness. The person who left the bus was a crew member. A crew member, who approached Stiles and gave him a wide smile.

“You wanna picture with Derek?” Stiles' mind hadn't even registered the answer before he nodded and croaked out a 'yes'. “Then follow me,” the unknown man said and waved for him. The security member immediately told him that he can't take Stiles on the bus, so the man settled with calling Derek out. Stiles' heart was practically flying, both of his knees felt like jelly, his whole being was trembling and shivering with anticipation and nervousness.

Then he saw Derek abandoning the bus in a black unzipped hooded vest with nothing under it, this way revealing the man's amazing sculpted body and all the awesome tattoos painting his skin. He was wearing a pair of black basketball shorts with it and a pair of black flip-flops, nothing else. The hood was on his head. An 'Oh my God' left Stiles' mouth before he could prevent himself from saying it out loud. Derek didn't seem to mind.

“Hey,” he smiled at Stiles. The teenager requited it instinctively. Derek held his hand out. “I'm Derek.”

“Stiles,” he said in a rather weak tone, accepting the huge palm and shaking it.

“Cool, so, where are you from, Stiles?”

“Beacon Hills.” His answers were still short, it was everything he was capable of at that moment.

“I'm glad to have met you, Stiles,” Derek said. “So you're here for a picture.” That sentence sounded more like a statement than a question, but Stiles nodded anyway. He pulled his phone out which Derek took away from him and handed it to the crew member who had taken the teenager there.

Three pictures were made of the two of them. On the first, Derek is putting his arm over Stiles and his hand is settled on the boy's upper arm. Derek is showing a metal fork while Stiles decided to go with a peace sign. The second picture is a spontaneous one, on which Stiles is talking to Derek, asking him if it was okay to hug. Before Stiles even finished the sentence, Derek answered with an 'Oh sure', and was hugging Stiles before Stiles could even realize what was happening. Eventually, he managed to wrap his arms around Derek and smile at the camera again.

“Thank you so much,” Stiles said, and Derek beamed a shining smile at him again.

“See you at the show tonight,” is all he said in response before going back on the bus. Stiles didn't even have the time to say as much as 'sure'.

After this, Stiles turned to the crew member who was still smiling and he told him he loved him and was so grateful that he couldn't even imagine. Then Stiles migrated back to the stage and managed to get into the third line, being the current band wasn't so well-known.

~

Stiles is really nervous.

He was pushed back to the cordon during the three concerts, so he's more or less in the middle, where he was, before going to look for the backstage. He hasn't eaten nor drunk anything today, and he's glad for it—this way he doesn't need to go to the bathroom and is able to keep his place here. He has a left-middle spot.

The crowd behind him is sweaty, they are tearing at his clothes and hair with their sticky fingers, an elbow is constantly pushed into his back, right against his spine just in addition, there is no air behind him, only the reeking smell of the people who are pushing him right into the cordon. Stiles is a hundred per cent sure he's going to need to be operated after the concert to get rid of the metal that is most likely a part of his ribcage by now. He's also amused that none of his ribs were broken yet.

He has to choke out a painful scream as he's pinned against the cordon, his stomach and lungs being pushed into little bits. Some security members, standing in the little space between the cordon and the stage, are scanning the crowd behind him—some people had been hauled out, one is right above his head, because of bad behavior.

Then Boyd shows up behind his drums and the crowd literally goes crazy. Stiles has to wonder what they will do once Derek is there as well. It doesn't take a moment and the rest of the band members appear on stage as well—first Isaac, then Scott, the guitarist, and last but not in the least, Derek.

The concert is purely awesome. Stiles can hardly believe it's not a dream, and even his meeting with Derek seems to be something that has never happened, but _those pictures_ are still in his mobile whenever he checks it. In his eighteenth year, he finally got to know what it feels like to be on a real concert where actual world stars are performing, too, and not just little local bands.

Of course, during the concert, Isaac and Scott are throwing several guitar picks into the crowd. One is thrown to Stiles, he's sure of it, because Scott was looking right at him when throwing a pick in his direction. Stiles couldn't catch it in the end, though, it landed somewhere on his right, and after some furious movements of some arms and hands, he lost track of it ultimately.

After the guys finished and left the stage, Stiles stayed there. He's disappointed he couldn't earn a guitar pick for himself, even though he's well aware how hard it is and how low his chances are to get one out of those ten little picks while having a crowd with at least 10,000 people in it. He saw one pick being kicked under the wide cable running under the stage, though, and he asks one of the securities to check it for him. He's told there is nothing there, but Stiles is still gazing the ground stubbornly with a little too much obsession and want.

Approximately two minutes pass, and the security member is back. Stiles looks up at him, and he asks if he wanted anything. Stiles tells him he can see something white under that cable and it might be the guitar pick. The man checks it again, but says there are no picks at all. Hearing that, Stiles gives up eternally, but then the man steps in front of him and pulls out a pick from his pocket. He holds it in front of Stiles.

“It was practically thrown to me, and it isn't a treasure for me.”

Stiles can hardly believe it, but accepts the pick in an instant.

“Thank you so much!” he exclaims and beams at the man, who laughs.

“You even blushed by being grateful.”

“That can't be impossible,” answers Stiles. He puts the pick into his card holder next to his ID card, making sure he won't lose it, then heads for the backstage once more.

Three hours pass by before the members of Devil's Due abandon their bus for their fans. There are much more people now, and Derek doesn't even notice Stiles, partly because of the crowd and partly because it's late at night and dark. The guys deal with the fans well, and when Stiles gets near to Derek again, the rockstar recognizes him and winks at him. Derek decides to give another girl an autograph before speaking to Stiles.

“You. Come here,” he says, beckoning the teenager over to himself.

“It was awesome, you guys were awesome out there,” he compliments, and it chases a smile on Derek's lips.

“Another pic?” he asks, and Stiles nods as if taking photos with him was the most natural thing on the whole planetary. Derek asks a security to make the ominous picture of the two of them. Derek's hand lingers somewhere near Stiles' hips before choosing to settle on his shoulder again. The photo is shot, and Derek has to say goodbye to Stiles.

~

Back at home, Stiles switches his laptop on. He changes his profile picture on Facebook to the picture on which he and Derek are hugging, then goes to bed. He's too tired to take a shower.

In the morning the very first thing he acknowledges is the pain in his chest. At first he thinks it's because of some impossible pose he was sleeping in for hours last night, but then he realizes it's the cordon that did this to him. He doesn't care about being beaten, though—the concert and all the experiences were totally worth it, and he'd do it again if needed.

He checks the pictures in his cell again, then goes on Facebook to see he got a few notifications. Erica commented on his photo.

_his face is like "go fuck urself he's mine" :3_

For some reason, this lifts Stiles' spirits.

He grabs his outfit from yesterday to shove them in the washing machine. When checking the pockets of his jeans he pulls something out of his left back pocket—it's a little piece of paper. One of Stiles' eyebrows arch up at that. He folds out the crumpled paper only to squeak and jump in happiness.

_here's my number. call me sometime if you feel like it. xoxo Derek_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on the Maze Runner-Teen Wolf crossover, but yesterday I was on a concert and I had already had an idea for a band AU. I wanted to write this while the experience is fresh.
> 
> I hope you liked it :)


End file.
